


Expect Delays

by romanitas



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:57:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanitas/pseuds/romanitas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Honestly, there are a lot of things taking up residence in the New York City subway system.  Monsters are just surprisingly lower in numbers than rats, but as usual, fond of interrupting dates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Expect Delays

Date nights are always so much easier and smoother when Percy’s allowed to use the Prius. It’s not his car, though, probably never will be, and it’s not like his excursions often take priority over Paul’s. He still kind of feels like a loser when he relegates Annabeth to the subway treatment though, even if she just rolls her eyes at him. 

“You act like I’ve never taken the subway before, Percy. You act like _we’ve_ never taken it before. Driving in Manhattan sucks anyway.”

Because well, honestly, they had – and they do. More often than he likes to admit, especially because he’s got his license now. Just no car to go with it. Apparently, despite Tartarus behind him, his mom doesn’t think he’s quite ready for that sort of responsibility. 

She’s probably right. 

But being all dressed up, nice slacks and a button down shirt, standing next to Annabeth in her super pretty dress on the platform waiting for the C train in a gritty underground station – well, it certainly doesn’t feel like they’re heading out to a nice restaurant. It certainly doesn’t smell like it either. He’s pretty sure that’s a combination of cheesy nachos, falafel, and mayonnaise with a nice dose of something vaguely sewery and musky on top. And maybe rotten eggs. 

She squeezes his hand, like she can read his thoughts. Probably she’s just reading his face. Either way he squeezes it back, offering her a somewhat embarrassed smile when he catches her eyes. She gives him a look in return. “Stop being ridiculous, for the millionth time. It’s just the subway.” 

In retrospect, he might have considered that to fall under “famous last words.”

The C train arrives as expected, which is to say not on time at all, but they board into a relatively empty car, sitting down with their backs to the windows. Neither of them ever sit it any other spot, preferring to stand if all those seats are taken. Even here, it’s a way to be extra aware of their surroundings, without space and people hovering behind them. 

Annabeth leans a little against him, but it’s nothing overt or attention grabbing – just a small bit of comfortable contact between them alongside their fingers tangled together. Well, okay, if she’s going to sit like that, Percy thinks maybe taking the subway _wouldn’t_ be the most terrible thing about tonight. 

It’s a quiet ride as the train ambles along, and Percy absently pulls out Riptide, tapping the pen against his leg. It takes Annabeth some time herself before she notices it, and she reaches out to flatten it against his pants. “You made me lose my train of thought.”

“But you’re sitting on one.”

She punches him lightly, right where he’d been tapping Riptide. “That was stupid.” 

“I’m pretty sure the fact that you’re almost about to grin makes it _not_ stupid.”

“No, _I’m_ pretty sure it just means your brand of humor is growing on me too much.” 

“You know you love it.”

She doesn’t respond though, because suddenly her eyes are staring down at the other end of the car, and she slips Riptide back into his hands. He’s on alert instantly, just in reaction to her body language, which shifts into something more guarded and less relaxed. “Don’t look, don’t say anything. We need to get off on the next stop, switch trains.”

And Percy knows right away that there’s something down there that’s rather fond of demigods for dinner. It’s probably going to ruin his own dinner, too, goddamnit. 

But of course, their luck doesn’t work that way. They don’t get off the train until _several_ stops later, missing their initial intended target by three. 

He can’t tell what it is, not without turning his gaze to overtly stare, but that’s something he’d rather avoid, since so far it seems blissfully unaware of their presence. He’s not all that fond of the idea of leaving it alone though either, not with a car full of civilians. But as long as Annabeth stays still beside him, he’s not going to jeopardize her.

He doesn’t really know why he even entertained the notion of getting off the train inconspicuously, though. Because he’s Percy Jackson, and monsters attacking would be his middle name, if he had one. He dares to glance down the car, and of course, he manages to lock eyes with it, knowing right away it’s not human, even though he still can’t tell what kind of monster it actually is. But when it stands up and slowly starts making its way over for them, he knows what’s coming.

Another date night ruined, that’s what’s coming. 

“I told you I hated subways,” he says, fiddling with Riptide. 

Annabeth’s reaching under the skirt of her dress, her hand on the knife Percy knows is there, because there’s no way she missed it starting to approach. “And I told _you_ not to look at it.” 

It makes a hissing noise at them, and suddenly the eyes are glowing red. “And like you,” it says, voice decidedly feminine and very distantly familiar, “I have finally managed to escape Tartarus.” 

The person sitting across from them looks up, raises an eyebrow, but then goes right back to her book. Honestly, it’s probably not even the weirdest thing anyone’s ever overheard on the subways. She even kind of scoots down a bit behind her reading, like she wants to pretend to be oblivious to whatever potential confrontation is about to happen. 

Percy climbs to his feet and uncaps Riptide, Annabeth following suit and pulling her knife out in the same movement. 

“I will send you back!” screeches the creature, and the shape finally shifts, one of the woman’s legs turning into a donkey’s. 

“You’re kidding me, right?” he says, mostly to Annabeth. They never caught her name, but it’s definitely one of the empousa that’d been trailing Kelli in Tartarus. 

“Don’t look at me,” she snaps. “Let’s just kill her before the car explodes or something. I _really_ don’t want to be stuck in a tunnel somewhere in heels.” 

He glances down. Her shoes are only about two inches, maybe three and thick, but heels nonetheless. Not that she can’t move and fight in them. She has before. It’s actually kind of hot. She elbows him in the side though, cued in to his distraction, and just in time, because the empousa lunges at them. 

They jump in opposite directions, Annabeth leaping onto an empty chair while Percy skids to a stop and grabs onto a pole for balance. The woman with the book lets out a yelp and runs for the other side of the car, as do two other mortals, but all three of them are casually avoiding eye contact. Percy just hopes the mist isn’t making their weapons look like guns. 

“Percy Jackson!” the empousa hisses, with uncomfortable familiarity. It chooses him as the first target, which is fine, really, because he and Annabeth do some of their best work when he diverts attention on himself. But the empousa lunges again, slashing with her talons, and Percy ducks into a roll. 

He forgets he’s in a moving vehicle and misjudges; his roll doesn’t stop when he means to, and he ends up tumbling under a row of seats and bumping loudly into the wall. He’s about ninety percent sure the empousa’s going to get him, what with how quickly it catches up, but he forgets about Annabeth. And Annabeth is pretty much the only backup he needs. She jumps from the seats, using the top holding bar as extra force to swing herself, and throws her weight against the empousa, sending them both crashing onto the floor. The train starts a rather sharp turn at the same time, and they slide a little bit, but Annabeth manages to regain her footing a lot faster, and she grabs Percy by the arm, yanking him out from a mess of crunched up limbs. 

The empousa struggles to its feet, metal leg clanking against a pole, and all the other passengers have huddled themselves in the corner at the other side; they don’t look particularly terrified, mostly confused but still trying to pretend it’s just a regular brawl of sorts between two teenagers and some woman. Or maybe even a dance-off, which would be preferable. He’s probably being optimistic with that, though. He’s doesn’t think even the Mist can hide his lack of dance skills. 

Annabeth shoves Percy to the side when the empousa comes at them again, and he grabs onto the pole to spin himself back around, bringing down Riptide in the process. The train jerks, and the empousa stumbles, Riptide missing by a couple of inches. Swearing under his breath, he makes to strike again, but the blade catches on its talons in just the right angle that he doesn’t manage to cut through any limbs. 

He glances over the monster’s shoulder at Annabeth, who’s preparing her own knife strike from behind, but the train lurches again, and all three of them lose their footing. Did it just stop and go? Percy doesn’t have the time to confirm. Annabeth lets out a loud frustrated curse of her own, and the empousa turns on her, swiping with its talons. Annabeth ducks and swings her knife, slashing across the empousa’s middle, but it doesn’t cut deep enough to kill. The talons do manage to tear a portion of her dress, and his girlfriend starts cursing the monster out all over. She jumps up when the empousa slashes again, grabbing on to the top bar and hauling herself up in a full body pull-up, tucking her legs up to avoid the strike before she kicks it in the head, tilting it slightly off balance in tune with the train’s movements. 

Percy tries to take advantage of the moment, coming down with Riptide in an arc, but he slips with another jerk of the car. The empousa whirls around to give him a fierce shove, and the combination of both has him stumbling rapidly to the other side, where he slams up against the door, cheek pressed right up against the glass of the window and leaving a smudgy faceprint. “ _Oof_ ,” he groans, because his whole body slammed up against the metal, too. It’s not painful enough to be crippling, but it’s painful enough to be _annoying_. 

He hears Annabeth grunting out in her own pain after a noisy thunk, and he pushes himself off, eyes darting around to find her looking as if she’s been thrown against a line of seats. Her hair’s a wreck, and her dress is wrinkled and bunched up a lot higher than it’s supposed to be (giving him a nice view of her legs, but he’ll digress). But the look in her eyes is dangerous, not one he’s ever inclined to be on the receiving end of. 

Before she can leap back to her feet, the train comes to a stop (for the third time? Fourth?), and as soon as the doors open, all the other passengers scramble off the car. Percy’s pretty sure he and Annabeth are gunning to do the same, but the empousa darts to block their exit, and there’s no way either of them would make a mad dash for the next one down on the off chance the other falls behind. Only two people slip inside, and at the sight of the three of them in a momentary standoff, they look as though they want to switch cars. The doors slide shut and prevent that from happening though, so they squish themselves at the other end as far as possible. 

Annabeth uses the moment to jump up, thrusting her knife at the empousa’s chest; the monster jerks backwards to avoid it, slamming itself into the door. Percy comes up from the side, slashing Riptide, but the train starts moving, and he ends up headbutting it in the gut instead, his sword smacking awkwardly against the back of a seat. Percy Jackson, hero of Olympus.

He makes to grab onto Annabeth for balance, only he ends up grabbing the fabric of her skirt, yanking a little too hard, and they both fall over. “ _Percy_ ,” she growls, literally using all her limbs to shove him away, since they went down in a tangle. The empousa leaps at them both on the ground with an angry cry, but at the same time, he and Annabeth lift their legs and _kick_ , hard, sending the monster stumbling backwards. 

They both scramble to their feet, and Percy squints. “I’m pretty sure you left a heel mark.”

“ _Good_.”

Percy’s a little surprised at the lack of damage so far, given the tight compactness of the space in which they all have to move, but honestly he feels like they’ve all done a little more sliding and stumbling than anything else. Better than explosions, at least. He’d rather not be the cause of blowing up a train underground, sending the city into a panic. He’s pretty impressed none of the windows have broken yet, too, though there’s a row of seats with definite awkward indents and scuffle marks along the floor, walls, and other seats. 

“Take her from the left,” Annabeth mutters, and Percy doesn’t hesitate. He rushes forward at a leftward angle, drawing its attention, and out of the corner of his eye, he watches as she ducks right, grabbing onto a pole and vaulting over a row of seats to get behind the thing. 

He blocks a blow from talons with Riptide, tries to pushback against it. The empousa growls at him, jerking her talons, and kicking at him with her metal leg. He grunts, because that’s definitely going to leave a bruise. Maybe it’ll at least have an interesting shape. 

“What a hideous leg! I bet it’s made of nothing but scraps!” comes Annabeth’s taunt, and the empousa rises to it despite the simplicity, turning around. 

Percy’s beholden to the sight of his girlfriend holding herself up by her arms on one of the top horizontal bars, and she swings both her legs to kick the empousa right in the face. Apparently the fact that she’s wearing a dress is lost on her at the moment, because that sure was a good shot of her underwear he saw. 

But the empousa falls to the ground from the force of it, definitely squinting in one eye and damaged from what he’s pretty sure was a heel, and Percy attacks, stabbing it in the side, just as Annabeth drops on top of it to stab it in the chest. With a strangled cry, cursing them both, the empousa falls into a pile of dust on the floor. 

They stand up, breathing heavily from the exertion of battle, and the train jerks again underneath them. Annabeth latches onto a pole and grabs her boyfriend’s arm, making sure neither of them falls to the ground again. There are a few moments of silence, throughout the entirety of the car, in the face of whatever show they were witness to. 

“Your dress is ripped,” is his astoundingly noteworthy observation, breaking it. 

She glances down and sighs, making a face at the damage. “So are your pants.” 

He looks down himself, then echoes her sigh, but he reaches for her hand with the one not holding Riptide. The train skids to a halt, and the doors slide open. They both glance up, letting out another synchronized sigh at having missed their pre-designated stop. 

They step out of the car, though, hand in hand, and Percy only has to glance at his girlfriend to know they don’t look at all in the best kind of shape. Her skirt’s ripped, her knees are scraped, her hair’s a disaster; his pants are torn, his shirt is a wrinkled dirty mess, and there are aches all over his body that are going to turn black and blue very soon. It’s not the worst they’ve ever come out of combat, but it’s enough that he knows dinner at Château Fancypants is not going to happen. 

Apparently she’s noticed that, too. She’s already disappeared her knife back under the dress, and he slips Riptide back into his own pocket. She adjusts her purse, having retrieved it before they exited the train, and tucks her arm through his. “Cheeseburgers?” 

With resignation, he sighs once more, but the way she’s leaning into him makes him smile like a dork. “Only if they come with fries.”

“Please, like I’d accept anything less.” 

“Only the best for you, Annabeth.” 

Dirt smudges on her face and bruises forming on her arms, she breaks into a small smile, kissing him on the cheek. He turns his head and steals another kiss from her lips, and she laughs into it. They make for the stairs and dart on up into fresh air with more laughter, trying to avoid the occasional stare over their appearance from passersby hurrying to their own trains. Honestly, cheeseburgers aren’t a terrible option. As long as Annabeth’s with him, Percy can pretty much go anywhere.

**Author's Note:**

> yo because seriously have you ever ridden the nyc subways?? don't ever ever sit on the ground is all i'm saying and i promise you at least one train will be temporarily not working at a time. also i just really like fighting & action scenes ok


End file.
